A Quiet Fire: Outtakes
by Magnolia822
Summary: Please read A Quiet Fire first. :
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all! Yes, I am going to release some more AQF outtakes. For now, if you didn't get to read the chapter 2 EPOV, here you go! **

**This EPOV picks up from just before Lauren and Jessica harass Bella on the playground. **

I'm sitting in study hall just before lunch, bored out of my mind. It's hot in the room, and since I already finished my work, I'm staring out the window at the playground. The sixth and seventh graders are outside playing and it's kinda funny to watch them—they're ridiculous, really. Especially the girls—the way they run around and chase the boys. Most of them are completely obnoxious, and I'm glad I'm too old for that shit.

My eyes drift, and it's like I'm looking for something and I don't really know what, or who, until I see her. There's Bella wearing a ratty looking blue coat, walking around the outside of the field away from the other kids. Even if I didn't recognize her clothes, her long hair would have given her away. I like the way it falls all the way down her back, kind of wavy. It smells good.

From this distance I can't see what her face looks like, but I know she's probably miserable out there. I hate that she's so shy, but I know it's hard for her with the way the bitches in her class, Lauren and Jessica, tease her. I've seen the way they tease her, but she never complains about it. She never complains about anything. And she's been more quiet than usual lately. Is it because of trouble at home or is she mad at me? I can't tell, but I want to find out more than anything.

Every once and a while Mr. Benson looks up at me and I lower my head, pretending to be busy. He gives me a look as if to say he's on to me, and I keep my eyes down for a minute until he looks away. The homework I've just finished is a joke, and I wish I'd brought my notebook so I could have spent the rest of the period writing. Doing something productive besides staring out the window at a girl who is supposed to be my sister's friend, my friend. She's my friend, right? I can look if I want. Whatever.

After a couple of minutes I glance up again...and what I see pisses me the fuck off. Lauren and Jessica are closing in on Bella, and a few other kids have stopped to watch.

Suddenly, I'm standing up and leaving the room before Benson can stop me. I'm tearing down the hall and out the back door to the playground, ignoring startled looks from a couple kids just coming in from outside.

I run as fast as I can until I'm close enough to hear Jessica screech: "Watch where you're going!" just before she shoves Bella so hard that she falls into the snow. Bella's holding a book and it falls out of her hand and I'm too late. Lauren kicks the book away from Bella as she tries to reach for it while Jessica piles snow onto Bella's bare head. I've never hated anyone so much in my life, and a sound comes out of my chest like I'm fucking growling.

"Get away from her."

My voice is deadly and Lauren and Jessica immediately stop what they're doing when they see me, stepping away from Bella. Their blue eyes are wide with fear, blonde heads bobbing stupidly, and it takes all of my restraint not to push them to the ground too, or worse.

But it's Bella who I'm worried about. She's flushed and I can see tears on her face as I pull her to her feet, her little ungloved hand cold and wet in mine.

"If you ever touch her again, you'll be sorry." I spit on the ground as I stand in-between Bella and the dumb chicks that think they're better than her. And I mean it. Stupid blonde heads bob some more and they retreat along with the rest of the idiotic spectators—kids too scared or selfish or mean to do anything but watch.

I turn back to Bella and release her hand. She brushes herself off and her face is red—is she embarrassed?

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she mumbles, but she doesn't sound too sure about it. She won't look at me.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, thanks." She bends over to pick up her book and I can see it's all wet from the melting snow. I recognize it now—it's _Anne of Green Gables_. I was with my mom at the bookstore when she picked it out for Bella's birthday. And I know it probably means a lot to her, and now that it's ruined I really wanna go and find those girls and beat the crap out of them. Yeah, I know that hitting girls is not okay, but man do they deserve it.

Suddenly I hear Benson yelling from the door and I know I better get going, 'cause I'm probably already in trouble for leaving class without permission. But I don't want to leave Bella like this...when she looks at me, her eyes...they're just indescribable. And filled with such sadness. I want to destroy whoever put it there.

"I gotta go," I say, wishing I could tell her how sorry I was. An idea occurs to me, and I smile. "Wait for me after school?"

Her eyes widen and I think I see the hint of a smile as she nods. And now Benson is screaming. With a final look at Bella I turn and jog towards the school thinking that it was worth it, even if I get detention.

"Mr. Cullen. What in God's name do you think you're doing?" Benson's face is red and I think I see a vein throbbing on his forehead.

"Helping a friend," I reply, biting back the sarcastic remark I want to throw at him, since I realize that if I do get detention, there's no way I'll be walking home with Bella.

He has nothing to say to that and I realize he probably witnessed the whole exchange. Good thing I'm here to keep an eye on things since the teachers at this school sure as hell don't.

"Well, consider this a warning. You pull a stunt like that again and it'll be detention."

I smirk. I'm not making any promises.


	2. EPOV outtake Chapter 25

**A/N: SM owns it all. This outtake is unbeta'd, so please forgive any grievous errors. **

**Chapter 25 outtake. EPOV**

**This is Edward's perspective of their first time—the winner of my fanfiction poll (by a long shot). Thanks for voting and enjoy!**

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><p><strong>This outtake begins after BE's trip to the Cullens'.  
><strong>

"God, Bella." I groan as she palms my cock through my jeans. "We have to stop." The muttered words don't seem to make sense to my body, which is as straining and ready as it's been since the day Bella found her way into my bed wearing my sweatshirt. I've never wanted someone like this before, and even as it scares the fuck out of me, I love it. I love her.

A moan escapes my lips when her mouth latches onto mine, first softly, then harder. I open my mouth and let her tongue plunge in, knowing she's shy and unsure and wanting her to know I want her, even if this isn't a great idea.

There's no hiding the fact that I'm hard for her, not when she's wriggling on top of me, practically giving me a hand job over my clothes. One of my hands slips under her shirt and the other covers hers and presses down on my dick as we kiss. It's pretty hypocritical of me, but I can't seem to stop myself.

"Bella," I say again, a final warning. If she's not ready for this . . .

"Come upstairs. Please." Her eyes, wide and serious, meet mine. They're the eyes of a woman who knows what she wants, not a little girl. Who am I to tell her no if it's what we both need? We've been denied choice for so long, I'm not going to take it away from her, especially not if she chooses me. The last bit of my tenuous resistance crumples with a final swivel of her hips and the whispered word, "please."

She squeezes me again and I my eyes trail down to where our hands are entwined. There's no ring on that hand now, thank God. I trail small kisses over her neck and try to make my cock remember that this is Bella, not some random chick, and she deserves to be fucking worshiped, not groped in the cab of a parked truck.

This is happening, but not here.

As we scramble out of the truck into the rain, I adjust myself and then reach out for Bella's hand. Her grip is firm and warm and, as we start to run for it, I want to fucking laugh thinking about how this day has gone from horrible to amazing in just ten minutes. Bella's here and she's mine and, even though I just learned that my parents betrayed our trust—mine, Alice's, Bella's—there's something about running through the rain with my girl, knowing that I'm her choice despite everything . . .

My parents. If I start thinking about them right now, I'm going to lose it. Instead, I empty my mind and remember the first time I saw Bella again.

She came back to me.

Bella laughs and smiles at me, her wet, dark hair streaming down her face, and I wonder how a fucked up asshole like me got so lucky. We reach the building seconds later and she fumbles for the keys as I try to shake some of the water out of my hair, feeling like a wet dog.

Then her hand is in mine again and we're up the stairs and at her apartment door. When she drops her keys in a rush to open the lock I swoop down and grab them, eager as hell to get inside.

I'm not interested in wasting time with preliminaries. As soon as the door shuts behind us I press her against it and my mouth is everywhere—her neck, her lips, the swell of her breasts. The rain on her skin is cool on my tongue and she shudders, her pelvis subtly rocking against my thigh pressed in between her legs. I don't even realize I'm restraining her hands until she makes a frustrated sound and wriggles in my grasp. Of course I let her go instantly, but rather than pushing me away those hands immediately start working at my jacket and shirt, secretly thrilling me with the knowledge she wants this as much as I do.

My single-minded purpose is to get her to the bed. I kiss her and lift her up and she squeals, surprised, kicking her legs in faux protest.

She shudders a little as I set her down, and I can't get my shoes off fast enough. She welcomes me, an embrace of arms and legs and I can't stop kissing her, sucking and nipping at her soft lips.

My cock still strains at the fly of wet jeans and I unconsciously press against her. Bella moans and lifts her hips.

As much as I want to rip our clothes off and plunge inside, this is her first time. We're going to have to take it slow.

She murmurs and sighs against me and I feel the pleasurable sting of her nails raking down my back.

"Bella?" I say, breaking away just for a second.

She opens her eyes and looks at me in the darkness, her lips slightly parted. I kiss her cool cheek before saying the words I know I should, even if my body is screaming to just get the fuck on with it. Because, despite the fact it fucking kills me to even think it, she's still technically someone else's fiancé.

Fuck that.

"Tell me you're sure about this," I murmur, kissing and nipping her ear. "I can stop now. But I don't think I can if we go much further."

"I'm sure. I'm sure." There's no hesitancy at all in her words, which makes me want to laugh in triumph. She's mine, Jacob Black. Only mine.

My mouth covers hers again, and we're basically dry humping on the bed before it hits me that I'm going to have to _hurt_ her. As much as I love the idea of being her first—and last, if I get my way—the thought of causing her pain makes me sick.

"I don't want to hurt you," I say, not able to keep my stupid mouth shut.

Bella runs her fingers through my hair and I close my eyes, loving the way her nails feel on my scalp. "You won't. It's okay. Please."

It's just what I need to hear to destroy the last of my crumbling reservations. I kiss her deeply, searching for the hem of her shirt in the darkening room. Words are leaving my mouth and I don't even know what the fuck I'm saying, other than love, love, love.

Finally I get her shirt off and the damn bra as well and I just stare at her breasts like a fifteen-year-old, because hell, that's how long I've been fantasizing about them. She watches me watching her, a barely visible smile on her lips.

"So beautiful," I murmur. If it were light enough, I'm sure I'd see her blush. Unable to keep my mouth away from her, I bend to kiss her, sucking one nipple into my mouth, then the other. I swirl my tongue and she presses my head more firmly against her chest. I grin against her skin, nuzzling the smooth, full flesh. All pants need to go.

But when my fingers play at her zipper, her body tenses.

Her scars. Shit, I'd been so caught up in the moment I didn't even think about how she must be feeling. As far as I know, she's never been exposed like this before. For the love of God, she thought I didn't want her before because of her scars, and here I am basically yanking her pants off.

"Don't be afraid," I tell her. "We don't have to do this." I'm starting to sound like a fucking broken record, but I want her to feel beautiful and eager, not ashamed.

"I'm afraid for you to see." I can hardly even hear the words: that's how softly she whispers.

"Don't be. I love you. Trust me and let me love you."

My fingers slip inside the waistband of her pants and she nods, but then closes her eyes and turns her head.

Obviously, no words are going to do the trick. I'll have to show her.

Removing my hand from her jeans, I turn my attention back to her breasts. She seemed to like the nipple kissing, which is fine with me, 'cause I could pretty much kiss her tits all day. My mouth moves down her torso to the light swell of her belly, and soon she's murmuring again, barely even noticing when I go for the zipper a second time. But the fucking jeans are wet and heavy, so I have a hell of a time trying to slide them off her legs until Bella helps me. While we're at it, the scrap of white cotton she calls underwear go too. I have to fight with my damn jeans as well, but soon there's nothing between us. My cock slaps against my stomach, ecstatic to be finally released, but I can't take my eyes off of Bella.

"You're so beautiful." I've never said it to a woman before, but with Bella the words sound natural, not cheesy. I touch her everywhere but the place she wants it most, knowing the more worked up I can get her, the less it will hurt. I bypass her pussy, planting a kiss on her inner thigh and trying to ignore, for now, the way her pelvis is slightly lifting off the bed.

The skin of Bella's legs is white and creamy until it becomes scar. Pink and irregular patches cover her knee, trail along her calf. I kiss those places and the undamaged parts too, knowing that the scars are marks of her survival, and loving them for that. She sighs and the tension gradually leaves her body as I nuzzle her instep, working back up the outside of her leg.

I could have fucking lost her. I did lose her.

Banishing that thought from my mind, I lose myself in Bella, wanting to know what every part of her tastes like, the places that tickle, the most sensitive parts.

She murmurs again a little impatiently and I kneel between her legs, smirking a little as her eyes trail over my body, finally landing on my dick, where they rest for some time. She looks away quickly when I catch her staring, obviously not understanding how much of a turn on it is. Then her gaze drifts back and she bites her lip, smiling and nodding her head.

Not wanting to wait anymore, I nudge her knees wider and she gasps out loud. I press light kisses around her pussy, pulling away just as she starts to writhe. Pink, and open, and perfect. I smile deviously, and then cover it with my mouth. Bella lurches off the bed and I know she's with me, really with me, as I start to work her with my lips and tongue. She cries out when my finger finally slides inside; I flick her clit lightly with my tongue as she starts circling her hips, pulling at my hair gently. I work her without mercy, loving it when she really starts to grind against my face, even though I can barely breathe trapped between her thighs.

Just when I start to worry maybe I'm not hitting the right spot, her muscles clench and she shudders against me, clamping her thighs against my ears so that I can barely hear her surprisingly vocal orgasm. My dick is pretty much leaking all over her sheets as I fantasize what it will feel like to actually be inside her. She calls my name in short, high-pitched pants.

When she's finally had enough, I release her and slide up over her, aware that my erection is so fucking close I could just push my way . . . no. Slow, asshole.

I'm not expecting her to touch my cock, so when she does I nearly lose my mind.

"That feels good," I mutter, slowly thrusting my hips into her grip. My mind is pretty much operating on fumes due to prolonged blood loss.

"Umm . . ." Bella says, breaking through my haze of pleasure. "I don't have any condoms."

It's shameful, but I've been carrying around a condom ever since Bella first slept over, just in case.

"I have one," I admit, not wanting to confess I'd hoped this would happen. How much of a dick must I be to have secretly desired this, even if she was still . . .

Before I allow myself to complete the thought, I jump up to retrieve the condom from the wallet in my crumpled, wet jeans. Back in bed beside Bella, I tuck it under the pillow and move over her again, giving into the need to feel my body pressed against hers. She's just as eager, her hands grasping at my shoulders, my back. I cup her right breast with my palm and thumb her nipple. Her hands run over my ass and I seek friction, pressing my erection into her thigh.

I find a ticklish place under her arm and use it to my advantage; gooseflesh erupts over her skin and her tits jiggle as she laughs, seeking revenge by discovering my sensitive spots.

I'm far, far gone when she takes my erection in her hand. I grab the condom, nearly tearing the wrapper in two with my teeth and flinging it across the room in my haste. I roll it down my length as Bella watches, wide-eyed. My hand feels good on my dick and I squeeze gently to relieve some of the ache, knowing we're going to have to take this slow.

"I love you," I whisper as I position myself in the dark room, searching her face with my eyes. When I see nothing but desire reflected back at me, I begin to press in, so slowly it's fucking torture.

Once the head of my cock is inside, the pressure is nearly enough to make me burst. I moan and drop my forehead to her shoulder, knowing if I don't calm myself down, this will be over before it's even started.

I've wanted her for so long, can this really be happening?

"I don't want to hurt you," I mutter against her hair.

"Do it, please. Please." I let myself slip a little further inside, groaning and biting softly at her neck. Even though it must be uncomfortable for her, on my end there's nothing but intense, mind-bending pleasure. She makes a little sound and I move my hand between her legs, stroking her clit until she's moaning too.

"God," I say, apparently unable to stop the word vomit. "This is hard. I just want to be inside you so bad."

In a completely unexpected move, she lifts her hips and I slide inside further, desperately working my hand against her as finally, finally, I feel her give way. A guttural groan erupts from my chest as I feel her clench around me. Fuck. She gasps and I try so fucking hard to stay still as she adjusts, but being inside her is so good. I think I say something to that effect, and Bella nods against my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" I manage, trying to keep my voice even. She meets my eyes and I can tell the pain is receding. Her breathing starts to slow.

"I think so. Just . . . go easy."

I touch her again, kissing her as I slowly start to move my hips. She swivels back against me and I know she's starting to feel good. I run my hands through her hair and rub my face against her soft cheek.

Oh shit, she's crying?

"Bella?" It takes effort to still my hips, but I do it. She smiles encouragingly, which is confusing, because despite the tears she seems happy. I swipe the tears with the pad of my thumb and kiss her again before pulling back and pushing inside her again. Sweet fucking heaven.

"I love you so much," she whispers.

It's the best thing I've ever heard. The stupid smile that forms on my face must be ridiculous, but I couldn't give a shit at this moment. Bella loves me. Me. Nothing else matters.

I kiss her again and press more deeply inside, feeling freer to move as she expands around me. When the orgasm that's been building for the past hour threatens, I slow my pace; when the sensation fades, I go faster. Bella moans and starts moving against me until we've built a perfect rhythm, and of course I can't help the dirty things that come out of my mouth.

"You feel so good."

Even with the stupid condom, the pleasure shoots up my spine, making my toes curl each time I press into her. Her noises become needier and I work my hand in between us again, rubbing her swollen clit. I'm worried my movements are too erratic to make her come, so instead I flip us so that she's riding me. Her movements, while at first tentative, become more secure and I guide her hips, letting her grind down on my dick however she pleases.

"Do you feel good?" I ask. She nods, too far gone to be embarrassed. Our tongues slip together as she cries out and stills, wrapping her arms behind my neck until her breathing starts to even.

I withdraw and move over her again, sliding inside with a quick, deep thrust. From the way the pressure in my balls is building I know it won't be long. I stroke into her, my movements jerky and erratic. Her legs wrap around me and she tells me how good it feels. I'm fucking done.

"I'm . . . gonna . . . God . . . I'm . . ." I moan incoherently as I thrust a final time, emptying into the condom as the white hot blindness erases all thoughts from my mind. My face is damp with sweat and maybe I'm even crying, I have no fucking idea. All I know is Bella is mine and I'm never going to let her go.

I kiss her again as my orgasm fades, cupping her face in my hands to survey the damage. Bella looks as sweaty and exhausted as I feel—and sexy as hell.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No," she whispers. "I'm okay. I'm better than okay." She doesn't look like she's in pain. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"Are you sure?" I ask again, just to make sure. I run my hands over her neck, her arms, her body and she looks at me like I've lost my mind.

"Yes, silly."

I sigh and draw her to my chest, rolling us to our sides. I slip out of her, which kind of sucks even though I no longer have a hard-on.

Bella leans forward and kisses my cheek, a secret smile forming on her lips.

"What?" I ask.

"I'm just happy."

"Me too. I'm so fucking happy." And then, even though our lips are raw, I kiss her again, feeling more complete than I've felt since the day I lost her.


	3. F4SAA Outtake: Alice's First Kiss

A Quiet Fire outtake: A First Kiss

Rating: M (for language, drug use)

Summary: Alice has a final request that only Jasper can fulfill. This outtake does not occur during the TL of the story, but offers a glimpse in both Edward's and Alice's minds as she neared the end of her life. Originally written for the Fandom For Sexual Assault Awareness Compilation. Thank you for donating to this wonderful cause.

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><p><em><strong>APOV<strong>_

"Anything?"

"Anything."

My brother forces a smile, crossing his legs at the foot of my bed. I cock my head and consider Edward's promise—he'll give me anything I want, within reason of course. What I want is for him not to be sad anymore, but I know that's probably impossible. Lately he looks as tired as I feel, and there's another thing that bothers me. It's something in his eyes—like he's giving up, not on me, but on life itself. He doesn't really talk to me anymore about Bella being gone, or about my cancer. I wonder if he talks to anyone.

The doctors finally admitted there wasn't much more they could do for me. The last round of chemo was hard on my body, and the cancer has only spread. Now it's in my lungs and my liver, and it's only a matter of time. Edward feels helpless, just like our parents do. And there's nothing I can say to make them feel better. But I'm glad to be back now. Philadelphia was okay and the nurses at the children's hospital were all really nice, but I missed being in my room with all my stuff.

The two of us are home alone. Dad finally convinced Mom to get out of the house for a little while—something I've been suggesting for a long time. Since we got back to Elgin, she hasn't left my side for more than ten minutes at a stretch. I see the way she looks at me when she thinks I'm not watching, or when she thinks I'm asleep. She's afraid if she leaves, she won't be here when . . . it happens. When I die.

Sometimes I want to scream and cry and yell about the unfairness of it all. Sometimes I let myself, quietly, when I'm alone. In Philly I saw kids half as old as me dying with the same disease—even babies. Then I think maybe I was lucky for getting to live this long.

Death. Dead. Not being here anymore. Thinking about it too much scares me, especially when I imagine that maybe there's nothing afterward. Just blackness. But then I see my parents, and Edward, and all of the beautiful things in the world, and I know there has to be more to it than nothing. It's going to happen.

But I'm not quite ready to go yet.

"Anything?" I ask Edward again. He rolls his eyes at me, a little of the familiar brother I know peeking through.

"Yes, Alice."

"Hmm." I clasp my hands together and place them behind my head, looking up at the ceiling.

"You don't have to tell me now. Just think about it."

Suddenly an idea pops into my head—it seems crazy, but it's the only thing I want.

Jasper Hale is one of Edward's best friends, and not only that—he's also the cutest boy in the world. His floppy blonde hair and blue eyes just . . . sigh.

Feeling for the bed remote, I press the button until I'm sitting upright. Then I look Edward dead in the eye.

"I want to be kissed."

Edward's eyes widen in surprise, so much so they look like they're going to pop out of his head.

"What? By who?"

Now comes the hard part. I feel a little embarrassed asking and my face grows red. Edward's eyes narrow just a little bit and he barks out a laugh.

"Jasper, right?"

I shrug and smile, suddenly aware of how obvious my crush must be. "Who else? Unless you think you can get Johnny Depp over here."

"He's too old for you," Edward grumbles, crossing his arms.

"Johnny?"

"Well, yeah, him too."

"Oh, I'm dying anyway."

I say it offhandedly, trying to make it a joke, but Edward's face grows pale. The two of us look at each other for a long while, and Edward's hand settles on my shin. Then he glances away and I know he doesn't want me to see the tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"No, it's okay."

"I just want to know what it's like . . . you know?"

"Shit," Edward curses, wiping at his face quickly. When he looks up again, he's smiling again. "Okay. Jasper. I'll ask him."

"Oh God, this is so embarrassing," I groan, turning my face into my pillow. "I must seem pathetic."

And then something else occurs to me—why the heck would a boy like Jasper want to kiss me? I don't look in the mirror anymore, but I know what I'd see if I did—a stranger. My hand drifts up to my bare head. I miss my hair.

Suddenly, I regret asking.

"Just forget it."

"Allie . . ." he says.

"No. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid." He takes a deep breath. "And to be honest . . . I think Jasper likes you, anyway."

"Shut up, you idiot." I kick at him and he fishes my feet out from under the covers, setting them in his lap and rubbing lightly. The doctors suggested foot rubs to aid my circulation, but I think he likes to do it—it lets him feel like he's helping.

"Well, he always asks about you."

"He does?"

Edward nods. The idea that Jasper asks Edward about me warms my whole body . . . I don't even care if it's not true or not.

"Well . . . okay then." I say, still really wanting the kiss, even if it's lame to ask someone. But I know at this point it's never going to happen naturally. I'm never going to have the kind of kiss that just spontaneously occurs and makes your toes and fingers curl, like in the movies.

"I won't make it seem like you asked me, okay?"

"Okay," I agree, feeling a little better about the prospect. "But don't tell Mom and Dad."

Edward rolls his eyes at me. "Are you kidding?"

I yawn, feeling my lids start to grow heavy against my will. Edward stops rubbing my feet and slides them back under the covers gently, tucking the blankets around them.

"I'll let you get some sleep," he says, even as I try to fight off the fatigue. I like his company, but I know he needs a break.

"Don't go far."

"I'll be just across the hall," he promises softly.

And that's all I remember before sleep overcomes me.

_**EPOV**_

When I leave Alice's room, I head straight to mine and close the door. I lay down on my bed, feeling exhausted but not like sleeping. I pat my pocket, retrieving the oxycodone tablet I pilfered from Alice's stash—she has a lot of pain medication, and I figure my parents won't notice me taking the odd one here or there. Nothing much of what I do is noticed anymore. I'm the invisible man. Still, as I slip it into my mouth and chew, taking a swig of the warm, flat soda left on my nightstand to erase the bitter taste, I feel a twinge of guilt. Shame.

But not enough to stop me from doing it.

I want to be numb.

I grab my cell phone and notice a missed call from Emmett. He and Jasper are both away at college, but they're both coming home for spring break next week. I figure it's the perfect time to ask Jasper about Alice. I have no idea whether he'll be weirded out by my request, but I could give two shits. If that's what my little sister wants, I'll do everything I can to make it happen, even if I have to drag that sonofabitch over here myself. But something tells me that Jasper won't mind. He always has had a soft spot for Allie. I punch out a quick text to him asking him to call me, and then drop my arm down, waiting for the oxy to kick in.

All this thinking about kissing makes me think about Bella. I hate it . . . I hate the empty, gnawing feeling that settles on me when I think of her—of our first kiss. So I try not to think of her at all.

How soft her lips were. How good she smelled.

Obviously, once I start remembering, I can't stop.

She had the widest, most honest, and saddest eyes of any person I'd ever known . . . all I had wanted to do was protect her, and I failed.

My Bella.

The memory of her on that hospital bed, wrapped in gauze, hooked up to machines to help her breathe . . . it makes me feel nauseous. And I was too much of a chicken shit to stay with her. No wonder she hates me.

God, I miss her.

The pain hits as it always does, like someone's stabbing me in the fucking chest. I know after all this time I shouldn't even be thinking about her—I shouldn't care. She won't ever forgive me. She never responded to any of my letters—even the ones where I fucking begged her, desperate for some sort of contact, even if it were only to say goodbye.

Just as I really start to freak out, the oxy starts to work and I feel my muscles relax. My mind feels strangely disconnected from my body and I revel in it, letting my mind drift away.

A few months ago, I was writing up a storm. But now there doesn't seem to be anything left inside to write about . . . and anyway, I no longer enjoy it. Instead, I find myself thinking about whether or not to contact James. The guy's a major asshole, but he has what I need, so I tolerate him. Barely. And I can only take so many of Allie's meds before someone'll notice.

The sound of my phone ring startles me. I reach for it and flip it open, bringing it to my ear.

"Hey Jasper . . ."

_**APOV**_

_One week later _

"Can I get you something special?" Mom asks, fussing with the pillows at my head. She's heading to the store and wants to know if I want any treats; I don't have the heart to tell her I'm not hungry. But this time, it's not because of the cancer—Edward popped in a few minutes ago to tell me that Jasper was coming over today.

He said yes.

My stomach is in knots, and I want my mother to leave so I can get up and try to make myself look decent.

"No. I'm fine, Mom."

She doesn't seem to like that answer. I relent.

"Okay. Some cookies n'cream. The Oreo kind."

That gets her to smile. Finally, after she finishes fussing, she gives me a kiss on the forehead and leaves, closing the door behind her.

Once I'm sure she's not coming back, I sit up in bed, trying to ignore the tiredness in my joints as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. I only have a few minutes, so I brush my teeth and put on a little makeup, cringing at the circles under my eyes. By the time I finish with that, my body is exhausted, so I forgo trying on a bunch of outfits. I pick a pretty red ruffly shirt and pull it over my head, choosing a red and white polka-dot scarf to cover my baldness.

Just then, there's a knock at the door.

"Allie?" Edward's voice wafts in from the hall.

"Come in."

He cracks open the door and glances over to my empty bed, then to me.

"What're you doing?"

"I . . . uh . . ."

Edward notices my getup and enters, running his hands through his hair.

"You look really nice."

"Thanks."

"So . . . uh . . . Jasper is here. I didn't know if you were ready."

"I'm ready," I say, but my legs feel suddenly unstable, a combination of nerves and tiredness. "Can you help me?"

Concern washes over Edward's face, and he's immediately at my side, threading his arm through mine and helping me back to bed. I fight back tears when he tucks me back in tenderly, his too-long hair flopping over his face.

"Is this stupid?" I whisper, my eyes darting toward the door.

"Nah," Edward says dismissively, patting my arm. There's an awkward silence for a moment. Then he clears his throat.

"I'll just be . . . downstairs. Feel free to punch him if he tries anything."

"Ha ha."

A minute later, Edward is gone and Jasper knocks softly.

"Come in," I call weakly.

"What's up, short stuff?" he asks, sitting down on the chair next to my bed reserved for visitors. I have no idea what the procedure is . . . will he just kiss me and go? Will we talk first?

This is so weird.

"Not much," I say dryly, gesturing around.

"You up to no good?" he teases.

"I wish."

He smiles, his straight white teeth peaking through his lips. I can't take my eyes off his face—how healthy and tan he looks.

"Me too."

We're both silent for a minute as I wrack my brain, trying to come up with things to say. Finally, I ask him about school. He tells me about some of the journalism classes he's taking—how he's gotten into photography. I smile at the way his blue eyes light up when he talks about taking pictures.

"So it's something you'd like to do, like for a job?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says wistfully. "I mean, it's a hard career to break into, but . . . my professor says I have talent. So we'll see."

"That's really great, Jasper," I say, so thrilled we're having an actual conversation I don't even think to be sad over the fact that I'll never go to college and pursue my passion for art. But Jasper will. Jasper will go on living, and that thought fills me with joy.

We talk for a long time about all kinds of stuff—TV shows, movies we've seen, books we've read. I forget about why he's here in the first place, which completely erases my nervousness.

Before I know it, he's sitting next to me on the bed and showing me some of his pictures. Most of them are of buildings and sites in Chicago—but the ones of people really stand out. Candid shots, he calls them.

"These are beautiful." I hold up a picture of a woman playing with her baby in the park.

"I like that one, too."

His voice grows soft, and I turn my head, startled that his face is so close to mine.

"You look beautiful, Alice," he murmurs, touching my chin. My breath catches in my throat as I stare into his eyes—he actually seems to mean it. I can't even think of a smart comeback; I'm too busy staring at his lips.

"Thanks," I finally manage, becoming a bit uncomfortable under his gaze.

His hand cups my cheek and I close my eyes, feeling the soft warmth.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks.

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

My eyes are still closed when his lips touch mine, but a shock runs through my body . . . meant to be. This is meant to be. When his mouth begins to move, something electric pulses inside. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I let him lead, never wanting the moment to end.

Finally, when he pulls back, I see tears in his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispers.

It's the happiest moment of my life.

_**EPOV**_

What the hell is taking so long? I wonder as I flip aimlessly through the channels in the sitting room until I land on a Duke/UNC game. I asked Jasper to come over for a kiss, not an hour-long make-out session. We only have a certain amount of time before Mom gets back from the store.

I have to hand it to my friend, though; he was totally cool with the whole thing. I'm just happy I could so something for Alice.

Last night I dreamed that Alice died, and when I woke up I felt such a relief—until I remembered that it's really happening. It's really fucking happening.

A few minutes later, Jasper enters and flops down beside me on the couch.

I glance over at him, wondering how it went. His expression is unreadable.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey."

"Fuck," he mutters when Duke scores a three pointer. "This is totally messing with my brackets."

"That sucks."

Neither of us seems willing to talk about what just happened—that Jasper (probably) just kissed my dying sister.

But I'm curious.

"So . . ." I begin.

"Are you okay, man?" he asks, surprising me.

"What?"

"I just mean . . . being here with all this going on. I can't even imagine it."

Something about his tone makes me suspicious. "Did Alice say something to you?"

He shrugs. "She's worried about you."

"She has no reason to be," I lie, turning back toward the TV.

"Okay. If you want to talk about it, though, you know I'm here for you."

I nod, my brain firing with warring impulses . . . it might be good to talk to Jasper. But something won't let me. I'm grateful he seems to be letting it go for now.

"So . . . You were up there a while," I start again, hoping he'll take the hint.

"Yeah. I kissed her." His voice sounds gruff, and when I glance over at him, I can see the emotion on his face.

"Thanks, man."

"No need to thank me. I wanted to. Alice is . . . special."

"Yeah," I agree, "she is."


End file.
